


Love Your Enemies

by velvetjinx



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Hate Sex, I blame the caprbb slack chat, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Shameless Smut, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 18:51:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11296686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetjinx/pseuds/velvetjinx
Summary: Bucky hates Sam. Sam hates Bucky. That doesn't stop them from being hot for each other, though. But when Bucky almost loses Sam, what will he do when he realizes how he really feels?





	Love Your Enemies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alby_mangroves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alby_mangroves/gifts).



> This is all Alby's fault, with additional enabling by various members of the CapRBB slack chat. Also certain pieces of dialogue were written by Alby and Gerry, and are without apology used in the fic.

Another day, another mission. It had gone pretty well; they'd caught the bad guys, but as fucking usual when Bucky was about to knock one of them out the fucking _bird man_ had swooped in, kicking the guy down. Then he had the fucking cheek to nod at Bucky and say, “You're welcome, Barnes,” when Bucky had _clearly_ had it all under control. 

Fucker. 

Bucky really fucking hated that guy, and the feeling was definitely mutual. 

They had drinks at the compound afterwards to celebrate, Bucky at Steve's side, which was his place. But of fucking course Wilson was hanging around like a bad smell, laughing and joking with Steve like he thought he belonged there. 

Bucky glared over the top of his drink, and Wilson caught his eye and subtly licked his lips. And now Bucky was half hard, thinking about what that tongue could do to him. Fuck. 

He pulled his shirt down over his crotch and stood, stretching. 

“Think I'm gonna turn in,” he said to Steve. “Been a long day.”

“Yeah, old men like you need a lot of sleep, so I hear,” Wilson said with a grin, and Bucky glared at him. 

“Goodnight, Buck,” Steve said quickly, and Bucky nodded to him before heading upstairs to his room. 

He'd just come out the shower, towel around his waist, when there was a knock at the door. When Bucky opened it, Wilson pushed past him into the room. 

“The fuck do you want?” Bucky asked harshly, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear him say it. Instead, Wilson grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him in for a bruising kiss. 

Bucky growled, nipping hard at Wilson’s lips. 

“Fucking quit it,” Wilson panted before capturing Bucky's lips with his own again. 

“Make me,” Bucky murmured against his lips. “If you can.”

Wilson’s response was to tear off Bucky's towel and grasp his cock, making Bucky groan. 

“I fucking hate your dumb fucking hair. Get a fucking haircut,” Wilson said as he yanked Bucky's hair back to bite hard at his neck. 

Bucky yelped at the pleasure/pain of it, grabbing hold of Wilson and spinning him around. 

“I knew you'd fly into a fucking window,” Bucky growled as he pushed Wilson into one, face first so Bucky could use his metal hand to rip his fucking pants off. 

“I swear to god I will shove a fucking button down your throat if you ruin another pair of my pants,” Wilson said with a gasp, and Bucky grinned, tearing Wilson’s pants open, buttons popping everywhere. “What did I just fucking say?”

“No idea, wasn't listening,” Bucky quipped, before ripping open Wilson’s shirt. More buttons popped off and hit the floor, and Wilson turned, making an angry noise in the back of his throat as he grabbed Bucky's hair and dragged him into a kiss. Bucky pushed Wilson's shirt off his shoulders, running his hands down his chest then pushing his pants and boxers down over his hips so Bucky could take hold of his cock and squeeze it gently. 

Wilson gasped into his mouth, and they tumbled together onto the bed. Wilson kicked off shoes and socks, pants and underwear and they were finally naked together. 

“Gonna fuck you,” Wilson murmured, and Bucky let out a short laugh. 

“I know you don't think you're topping this time, Wilson.”

Wilson's response was to flip Bucky over, spread his asscheeks, and lick a stripe from his balls up over his hole. 

“Jesus fucking Christ no, ah, fuck, Wilson, you're not topping, oh Jesus _fuck_...”

“Wanna bet?” Wilson muttered against his skin, before nipping and sucking around his hole. Before Bucky could respond, the bastard thrust his tongue inside, and Bucky could have wept at how good it felt. 

“Hnngh, fuck, Wilson, you filthy fucker, bet you love tongueing my ass, don't you? Bet you fucking love how it feels to have your tongue in my asshole. Bet you're thinking about how my ass is gonna feel around your cock.”

Wilson's only response was to stick his tongue in deeper, and Bucky near enough howled. 

He could feel saliva dripping down his taint to his balls, and pushed his ass backwards against Wilson's face. Wilson responded by tongueing him harder, deeper, making Bucky moan. 

“Yeah, you fucking love my tongue in your ass, don't you?” Wilson asked with a smirk, reaching into the bedside cabinet and emerging with lube and a condom. He slicked his fingers, then without preamble pushed two inside Bucky's ass. Bucky gasped, biting his arm so hard he nearly drew blood, but he adjusted quickly as Wilson began to stretch him open. 

Bucky pushed back against Wilson’s hand, wanting more, but Wilson (the fucker) immediately slowed down, before crooking his fingers against Bucky's prostate. 

“Ohjesus _fuck_ ,” Bucky cursed, barely feeling it as Wilson added a third finger, pleasure coursing through him. 

At length, Wilson pulled his fingers out, ripping open the condom with his teeth before rolling it on and covering his cock in lube. He began to push in slowly--too slowly for Bucky's liking--and Bucky rolled his eyes. 

"Are you in yet?" Bucky bit out, the burn and stretch as that gorgeous big cock filled him making him clench his teeth. “I can't quite feel you.”

"Fuck you, Barnes," Wilson replied, thrusting in deep and making Bucky cry out. 

 

"Thought that's what you were meant to be doing." That earned Bucky a hard smack on his ass, and he growled low in his throat.

Wilson gave him only a few moments to adjust before starting to fuck him, slowly, so Bucky could feel every inch of his cock. Bucky pushed back, fucking himself on Wilson’s cock, trying to pick up the pace, and Wilson grabbed his hair, pulling his head back. 

“The fuck do you think you're doing, Barnes? Who’s topping, me or you?”

“If you'd just fucking _get on with it_ ,” Bucky grit out, but Wilson grabbed hold of his hips in a bruising grip. 

Bucky tried to push back against him, but Wilson had his hips in a strong grip and he couldn't move. 

“God, you're such a lousy lay,” Wilson drawled. “Bucky--that's your name isn't it? So get bucking.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes and kicked out, sending Wilson backwards off the bed. Wilson climbed back on, looking pissed, but before he could say anything Bucky grabbed him and flipped him over onto his back, holding him down with one arm. 

He grasped Wilson’s cock and sank down onto it, as slowly as he could, holding Wilson's hips in place so he couldn't move. Bucky began to fuck himself on Wilson’s cock, keeping the pace as slow as he could manage, until Wilson cried out, “Fine, fine, you've made your point. Will you move a bit faster? I'm dying down here.”

“Hmm, nope,” Bucky hummed. “You wanted to go slow, so we're going slow.”

“Jesus fuck, Barnes, ice caps have melted faster than this,” Wilson groaned, trying to buck his hips, but Bucky's hold was too strong. 

Bucky's thighs were starting to tire from the slow pace, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his skin at the effort of going slowly. He leaned forward briefly, but that was time enough. Wilson saw his chance and flipped them over, so Bucky was on his back, and began fucking him at a bruising pace. 

Bucky flung his head back on the pillow beneath him, clawing at Wilson's back with both hands. 

“Nngh, fuck, Wilson, can't you fuck me any harder?” Bucky asked, panting. 

Wilson narrowed his eyes and fucked him hard and fast, hips slapping against his ass hard enough that Bucky knew he'd be sore for days. It felt so fucking good, though; especially when Wilson shifted his hips so he was hitting that spot inside him, and Bucky's eyes damn near rolled into the back of his head. 

He brought his hand down to stroke his cock, but Wilson batted it away, so he tried with his other hand. Wilson grabbed both hands in one of his and held them down above Bucky's head; Bucky struggled a little, but Wilson's grip was strong. Which wasn't to say that Bucky couldn't have broken free of he'd wanted to, but being held down was kind of turning him on even more. 

“Fuck, Wilson, let me stroke my cock, let me come, you overgrown sparrow.”

“Say please.”

“Fuck you,” Bucky spat out. 

“I'm already fucking you, so try again, Barnes. Say please.”

Bucky thought for a moment, then grinned, squeezing his internal muscles as hard as he could. Wilson shuddered, closing his eyes briefly before glaring down at Bucky. 

“Fine, asshole. But you don't get to get yourself off.” And Wilson shifted his weight onto the hand holding Bucky down, using his other hand to stroke Bucky's cock just the way he liked it. Bucky whined; he was almost there… Almost… there…

“Oh shit, fuck, I'm coming,” he managed, before crying out as his orgasm overtook him and he came all over his stomach and chest. 

Wilson bit his lip and thrust a few more times before his hips stilled and he came inside Bucky with a groan. 

They lay there for a moment, still joined as the cool air from the window dried the sweat on their skin, then Wilson was pulling out carefully. He tied off the condom and threw it in the waste paper basket beside the bed, then flopped down beside Bucky as he caught his breath. 

“Fuck, I hate you,” Wilson murmured, and Bucky pushed his shoulder. 

“Same. Now go shower, will you? You stink of sweat.”

“Fuck you,” Wilson responded, but it was oddly without rancor. He stood and pulled on his clothes, leaving without a word, and Bucky went through to the bathroom to clean himself off, since spunk was a bitch when it dried. 

Curled up in bed afterwards, his ass aching pleasantly, he drifted off into a deep slumber. And if he dreamed about dark skin and stolen kisses, well, no one knew to call him on it.

***

It had become kind of a thing of theirs; a way to blow off steam after missions. They still hated each other, but that made the sex more exciting, somehow. No one knew. They'd always been careful, especially around people like Natasha who were ridiculously good at reading body language. 

It was a good thing, which of course is why it had to blow up in Bucky's face, since god forbid he have anything good in his life. 

***

They were on another mission, under heavy fire. Wilson swooped out of the sky, flying low to the ground, when Bucky saw one of the bad guys setting his sights on Wilson. Bucky ran towards him to stop him, but before he could get there the guy took the shot and Wilson fell like a stone, rolling to a stop on the ground. 

Bucky grabbed the gun off the guy, using it to beat the guy around the head, then ran towards Sam, his heart in his throat and a prayer on his lips. 

He skidded on his knees to a halt beside Sam, rolling him over and checking for a pulse. It was thready, but it was there, and on closer inspection Bucky realized that the bullet had gone through Sam's shoulder. He didn't seem to have any other wounds, so Bucky pulled him close, pillowing Sam's head on his lap. 

“Jesus, Sam, don't you fucking dare die on me,” Bucky murmured. “You die I'm gonna find a way to drag your ass back from the afterlife so I can kill you myself.”

Tony landed beside them, kneeling down and checking Sam over. 

“FRIDAY has just called an ambulance,” Tony told Bucky, “so we need to make sure these bad guys are neutralized before they get here.”

Bucky nodded, laying Sam carefully down on the ground, then grabbed the gun from beside him. Between them all, they managed to kill or capture all the bad guys before the ambulance came, and although Bucky wanted to go with them, make sure Sam was okay, he figured he was probably the last person Sam would want to see when he woke up. 

“You should go with him, Steve,” Bucky said hoarsely as they were loading Sam into the ambulance. 

Steve looked at him in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah, he should probably have someone with him.”

Steve gave him a long, considering look, then nodded. “Okay,” he said softly, before climbing into the ambulance. 

Bucky watched them go with a heavy heart, then climbed into the quinjet with the others. 

“You okay, Barnes?” Natasha asked him. 

“Yeah, of course,” Bucky replied weakly, though to be honest he really wasn't sure. 

When they got back to the compound he went straight up to his room and stripped out of his combat gear, turning the shower as hot as he could take it before climbing in. 

As he stood under the steaming hot water, all he could see in his mind was Sam being shot over and over again, and he choked back a sob. If Sam wasn't okay--if he died because Bucky hadn't been quick enough--he would never forgive himself. 

He paused to wonder when ‘Wilson’ had become ‘Sam’ in his mind, realizing that it had probably been when he thought he'd lost him already. 

And wasn't that a kick in the fucking teeth. He'd managed to pull his head out of his ass to realize what Sam meant to him just in time to possibly lose him. And then there was the fact that Sam hated him--would probably always hate him, even if he survived this. 

In short, his life sucked. 

He scrubbed at his skin under the near-scalding spray, wondering when it had all changed for him. When he had grown to like Sam. When he had grown to, well. Bucky really didn't want to use the other L word, but it was there, pressing at the edges of his consciousness. 

By the time he got out the shower, hopefully there would be news one way or the other. 

***

Dressed in civvies and hair wet, Bucky made his way down to the living area of the compound. Nat and Rhodey were the only ones in there, and Rhodey was getting up as he went in. 

“I'm gonna go talk to Tony about the mission report,” Rhodey said, nodding at Bucky as he passed. 

Bucky flopped onto the sofa next to Nat, who turned to him with a small smile. 

“How are you holding up?” she asked him, her tone sympathetic. 

“I'm fine,” he replied shortly. “Why do you ask?”

Nat shrugged. “I know what Sam means to you. I just figured you'd be worried.”

 _What?_ “What do you mean?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light. 

Nat rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Behind all that macho bullshit posturing I know you really care about him. And _everyone_ knows you guys have been sleeping together for months. You're not half as sneaky as you think you are.”

“I don't… that's not…” Bucky trailed off with a sigh. “How do you know how I feel about him when I've only just figured it out myself? Besides, he hates me anyway, so how I feel is irrelevant.”

“Hmm,” Nat hummed. “You're sure about that, huh?”

Before Bucky could ask her to explain that cryptic remark, her phone rang with Steve's ringtone. She answered it quickly, said only a few words, most of which were, “Okay,” then ended the call. 

“Steve says Sam's gonna be fine,” she told him, and Bucky let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. She clapped him on the shoulder and he nodded, before getting up and going back to his room. 

***

Sam was kept in hospital a full five days before they let him out. Bucky didn't go to see him, unsure of his welcome, but ate up every piece of news about his recovery. 

Sam's first night home, Bucky excused himself from the group early, claiming a headache. An hour later, he was sitting up in bed reading when there was a knock on the door. 

He put his book down on the bedside cabinet, then shouted, “Come in!”

The door opened, and Sam slid into the room, mindful of his injured arm which was in a sling, then closed the door tightly behind him, before turning to glare at Bucky. 

“Thanks for the hospital visit, Barnes,” he said, his tone harsh, and Bucky shrugged. 

“I didn't think you'd want me there, Wilson. You've told me enough times how much you hate me; I figured I'd be the last person you wanted visiting you.”

Sam gave him a thoughtful look. “You called me Sam. When I'd been shot. You called me Sam and told me I wasn’t allowed to die on you.”

“Yeah, well, call it a moment of weakness,” Bucky said with a short laugh. 

“It made me think,” Sam continued as though Bucky hadn't spoken. “Made me wonder just how much you really hated me.”

Bucky scrubbed a hand over his face. “What does it matter?”

Sam went over and sat next to Bucky on the bed. 

“It matters,” he said softly, bringing his uninjured hand up to cup Bucky's cheek with unexpected tenderness. Before Bucky could react, Sam leaned in and kissed him softly, more gently than they'd ever kissed before. Bucky's eyes slid shut and he moaned into the kiss, hands clutching at Sam's thighs. 

At length, Sam pulled back, his expression gentle. “Maybe I don't hate you quite as much as I've said. Or, you know, at all.”

Bucky's eyes widened. “Jesus, Sam, why didn't you say something?”

Sam shrugged. “Because I thought you hated me, and I would have taken you any way I could get you.”

“You fucking idiot,” Bucky said fondly. “You fucking own me. And yeah, okay, maybe it took almost losing you for me to realize, but now you know, okay?”

Sam's response was to kiss him deeply, and Bucky groaned at the familiar taste of him. 

“I need you,” Sam murmured against his lips. “Want you to fuck me, need you inside of me.”

Bucky nodded, and they began to strip each other. Bucky undid the sling before carefully pulling Sam's t-shirt off him, mindful of his injuries. Sam still winced, hissing, and Bucky leaned in to kiss him. 

“Sorry,” he muttered. 

“It's fine,” Sam replied, rubbing his hand over Bucky's hip before pulling off his boxers. 

Bucky slowly undid the fly of Sam's pants, and Sam grinned at him. 

“Good,” he said with a smile. “I like these pants.”

Bucky laughed and kissed him as he pushed Sam's pants and boxers down, then slid down to his knees to strip him the rest of the way. 

Sam lay on the bed on his back, thighs spread and knees bent, his beautiful big cock hard and lying against his stomach. Bucky took the lube and a condom out of the bedside cabinet, then settled himself between Sam's thighs. 

He squirted the lube over his fingers then spread it around, getting them nice and wet. Sam bit his lip as Bucky rubbed gently at his asshole before pushing the first finger inside. 

As he fingered Sam, Bucky leaned down and took Sam's cock into his mouth, tongueing around the head as he sucked. He felt precome spurt across his tongue and dug his tongue into the slit, lapping up the moisture there and making Sam moan. 

Bucky felt a hand in his hair, but instead of grabbing and pulling, Sam was running his fingers through it. 

Bucky let Sam's cock fall from his mouth and grinned. “Thought you hated my hair,” he said with a laugh. 

“Yeah, well, maybe it's grown on me,” Sam retorted, smiling down at Bucky. 

Bucky returned the smile, then went back to sucking Sam's cock. He crooked his fingers inside Sam, rubbing against his prostate, and more precome filled his mouth as Sam cried out. 

He added a third finger, taking his time stretching Sam open as he sucked him, until Sam reached down, cupping the back of Bucky's head. 

“Fuck, Bucky, I'm ready,” he groaned, and Bucky kissed his way up Sam's chest to his mouth. 

“Say my name again.”

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, oh god, please fuck me now,” Sam said with a whine, and Bucky smiled, feeling as though his heart might burst. 

He pulled out his fingers then rolled on the condom, slicking up his cock with the lube. He lined himself up and began to push in slowly, taking his time. They'd fucked a hundred times before, but somehow this felt like the first. 

Once he was fully inside, Bucky leaned down, kissing the tip of Sam's nose, before pressing their lips together. Sam kissed back hungrily, before nodding. 

“Yeah, you can move now,” he said, and Bucky smiled before starting to fuck him at a steady pace, occasionally leaning down to steal a kiss as they fucked. 

He pressed forward, bending Sam nearly in half, and shifted the angle of his hips until Sam cried out, uninjured hand gripping Bucky's shoulder. 

“Fuck, I'm not gonna last,” Sam moaned. 

“Do it, touch yourself, want you to come for me, Sam, want to see you come.”

Sam nodded and began to stroke himself, and it wasn't long before, “Oh Bucky, fuck, _Bucky_ ,” he came, head thrown back and looking more beautiful than Bucky had ever seen. 

Bucky tried to hold on, but Sam's muscles squeezing his cock pushed him over the edge, and he babbled, “Fuck, Sam, love you, ohmygod,” as he came hard. 

He leaned down to kiss Sam as they caught their breath, then Bucky carefully pulled out, disposing of the condom before laying down gently beside Sam. 

Sam turned to him and pulled him into a deep kiss, and they kissed until Bucky wasn't sure where he ended and Sam began. 

At length, Sam pulled back, looking at Bucky curiously. “Did you mean that?” he asked. 

It was on the tip of Bucky's tongue to ask “Mean what?” before he remembered what he'd said as he was coming. Flushed with embarrassment, he shrugged. 

“I don't expect you to say it back, or anything,” he said in a rush, but Sam pulled him in for another kiss. 

“I love you too,” Sam murmured against his lips, and Bucky made a joyful noise, kissing Sam deeply. 

Eventually, Sam pulled back, smiling. “I'm sleeping here tonight,” he announced, and Bucky grinned. 

“Yeah, okay,” he replied softly. “I'd like that.”

The arranged themselves so Sam was lying on the side with his good arm, Bucky spooning behind him. Bucky dropped kisses across Sam's uninjured shoulder, sighing happily. 

“G’night, Bucky,” Sam muttered sleepily, already clearly half asleep. 

“Goodnight, Sam,” Bucky replied softly. 

He lay awake for a long time, listening to Sam's gentle breathing, and thinking about how lucky he was. He felt bad that he had taken so long to admit his feelings for Sam, but they were here now, happy together and in love. And come what may, he'd always have this perfect night.


End file.
